When they crested their final peak and saw the Cradle stretched out before them, DJ’s eyes filled with wonder. Far to the north, the Hollow Mountain stood impossibly tall, housing the dwarven city of Khavdaāk, the capitol of the Spine. But below that, the Cradle stretched for hundreds of miles. Pushed against the Camās Gahl Mountains was the Lyleth Forest, a lush green blanket across the valley floor. And just behind it was glimmering hint of Varis Lake, which meant the shining city of Varis.
Varis.
The thought of the lakeside city put a fist of resentment in DJ’s stomach. Sir Dashing’s recommendation to visit his mother came flooding back. But why? Why would he want to see her there? She obviously didn’t want to see him.
DJ tore his thoughts away from his mother and pointed at Khavdaāk. “Francis, are we going to visit Khavdaāk? I’ve heard stories about the city inside the mountain.”
“I’ve heard them myself,” Francis said. “A splendid, cavernous metropolis carved by ancient dwarves from the mountain’s interior. But that would divert us from our journey. If you want marvel at dwarven architecture, you’ll see it at the Library of Artak. Like Khavdaāk, the Library is carved from a mountain’s belly.”
DJ pictured it and smiled, but he smiled more over Francis’s visible excitement.
They traveled down the last mountain before arriving at the stone gates of Laradyl. The elvish influence was immediately apparent. The cream-colored stone wall surrounding the city was accented with motifs and curved lines to gave it an air of elegance. The giant wooden gates also looked brand new, free from any chips or splinters. They remained open to welcome the city’s westward visitors.
In the city, each building was a boxy mix of wood and stone, similar to Odambro but a noticeable step finer. Wooden beams were carved into beautiful curves as if they had naturally grown that way. Not a spec of rubbish was in the streets. And the elvish population was noticeably dense. The party couldn’t walk ten paces without seeing a beautiful face, pointed ears, and striking features.
The Hammerstone Oathbreakers thought they had become great friends with the Pilgrims, but Steve was the only one who gave them a warm goodbye. The four performers skipped merrily away while Steve lamented the songs he would no longer hear.
The Laradyl ravenpost tower was just inside the gates. When DJ saw the tall structure, he felt a wash of guilt for not writing his father back in Odambro. He took a gold piece and went inside while Francis and the others waited.
To his delight, there was a letter waiting for him.
“DJ of Beregond?” DJ asked.
The druid at the front counter handed him a folded up letter. “Came for you three days ago,” they added.
DJ broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
Ho there, son!
I was happy to get your letter when you visited Daenan. Did you visit Odambro, or pass it by? I wrote this letter to Laradyl just in case. I hope you’re safe and your party is being kind to you.
The city council has insisted of building a statue of me in the city plaza. It’s embarrassing. We’re planning for this fall’s Harvest Festival and they even want to put on a play reenacting one of my escapades. I’ve been asked to approve the script. They just can’t give an old man a break.
The house is quieter without you. Be well, dear son! May the Goddess grant you safety!
-Sir Dashing
DJ purchased some parchment and a quill and started scribbling.
Hi dad.
Sorry I forgot to write in Odambro. I’m fine. We just crossed Broken Lovers Pass with some a capella bards that Friar Steve fell in love with.
I loved the Aeldar Forest. It’s so beautiful and serene. If the Lyleth Forest is anything like it, I’m going to want to move here!
He hesitated before writing the next part, but swallowed and put the quill back to the parchment.
By the way, I’m starting to experiment with magic. Turns out I have a knack for it. Francis gave me a book on it, and I even learned a spell that saved me from a tight spot. There aren’t many mage knights, so maybe it makes me unique.
Thanks for thinking of me. The next city is Varis, so I won’t forget to write you then.
-DJ
He handed the letter back to the druid, who gave it to a raven. DJ walked out of the ravenpost tower with his head down, thinking. He could picture his dad’s face when he learned that DJ was becoming a mage. Maybe he would keep it a secret—how typical would it be that the disappointing son of Sir Dashing would become a mage? DJ imagined the whispers and snickers of the townsfolk and frowned.
The party was standing in the middle of Laradyl’s main concourse when DJ rejoined them.
“I forgot how lovely Laradyl can be,” Francis muttered.
“Yeah,” DJ said, hiking up his pack. “Elves have to make things as showy and perfect as themselves.”
A voice called, “Hello again, dear travelers!”
When they turned to find the source, all four of them were rocked with surprise. It was the wizard waffles merchant, with his same goofy grin, fake beard, and pointed hat. His wooden waffle stand rested at the edge of the street. DJ could have sworn it wasn’t there a moment ago, but regardless, there it was. He and Riley ran toward it.
“I hope my vitalizing cuisine has served you well!” The wizard’s statement was more of a question.
“It did!” Riley said. “How did you get here with your waffle stand?”
The wizard shrugged playfully. “I have my means.”
“We’re going to need more,” DJ said.
“You already know the price! Ten gold a piece!”
While DJ fished around in his pack for the gold, Francis asked, “How are we doing on coin?”
“Pretty low,” DJ murmured. “We’ve got a less than a hundred gold. We might need to find a job while we’re here.” He focused on the wizard. “How long have you been here?”
The wizard loaded four waffles with cream. “Long enough.”
“Know anyone in Laradyl looking for help?”
The wizard served the waffles and tapped his chin. Then he snapped his fingers. “Ah! I heard of a big chap over at the Squealing Boar who’s gotten himself into a ripe old pickle! Could use a hand from some generous adventurers like you.”
“What does he look like?” Francis said.
The wizard chortled. “Oh, you’ll know him when you see him. The Squealing Boar is down the road and around the corner. He might still be there if you’re lucky.” He slapped his hands on the table. “Welp, pleasure doing business with you! Ta-ta then!”
The party packed their waffles away and proceeded down the road. But as they walked, DJ backpedaled, keeping his view fixed on the waffle stand. The wizard watched him out of the corner of his eye, then gave DJ a subtle wink and a tug of his beard. A townsperson walked by DJ, and in that fraction of a second, the waffle stand disappeared. DJ laughed and turned around.
The Squealing Boar had to be the diviest dive bar in all of Laradyl—the only building with broken windows, chipping paint, and a faded sign. The party pushed open the splintery door and fell victim to the smells of cheap alcohol, body odor, and simmering stew. Steve coughed and waved his hand in front of his nose. An ugly barkeep watched them as he cleaned a mug with a dirty rag.
Riley scanned the crowd of ruffians. “So where do you think this—Good Goddess!”
It had to be him. Sitting in a corner was an enormous red-skinned man dressed in furs. He had to be about nine feet tall because was holding a pint of beer like it a was thimble between his fingers. A dozen empty pints were strewn across his table, along with a war hammer at his feet. He wore a regal captain’s hat complete with a peacock feather. And around his collar hung a necklace decorated with a large number of severed ears.
A giant? DJ wondered. No, he’s got to be a half-giant—a full giant couldn’t fit in this building. I thought they only lived in the mountains!
He gulped. Riley prodded him forward, but DJ planted his feet.
“No way, not me,” he said, shrinking. “Francis, you talk to him. We’ll follow.”
Francis cleared his throat, hiked up his pack, and marched. When they approached the half-giant, Francis turned on his orcish intimidation. “Someone told us you might have a job.”
The half-giant set down the pint and gave Francis a look. His voice was gravelly and deep. “Depends if you can keep a secret.”
“As long as it does not offend the Goddess above!” Steve yelped.
Both DJ and Riley shushed him.
“Ease your conscience, ugly human, there will be no crime.” The half-giant smirked. “But first, you must prove that you are worthy of the task.”
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“Name your test,” Francis said.
The half-giant held up a gold coin, then placed it on the table. He covered it with an empty pint, then flanked it with empty pints on either side.
“Follow the coin,” the half-giant said. “You get one guess. If you’re wrong, no job. Who of you will do it?”
Francis was about to speak, but Riley’s hand shot up. DJ’s brow furrowed in surprise. The half-giant leaned in expectantly.
“The little girl, then,” he said. “Come. Sit. I hope your eyes are stronger than your shoulders.”
DJ was amazed at how unbothered Riley appeared as she sat down. She put her elbows on her knees and leaned forward, her chest pressed against the table. She stared unblinkingly at the pints as the half-giant moved them all around with his forefingers.
After a dizzying moment, the half-giant stopped the pints and leaned back, folding his arms. With little a hesitation, Riley pointed. “The middle one.”
The half-giant lifted the pint. No gold. The entire party deflated.
“Shame,” he said. “And to think you could have made eight hundred gold.”
“Wait,” Riley said. “The left one.”
The half-giant lifted it. No gold.
“So it’s gotta be in the right cup,” Riley said.
The half-giant lifted it, and… no gold. The group gave incredulous looks. The half-giant replied with a satisfied sneer.
“The half-giant is a mage!” Steve yelped.
Riley relaxed and gave a smirk of her own. “He’s not magic. He just thinks he’s clever.”
From under the table, she flipped a gold coin onto the table’s surface. It sang and spun and shimmered until it came to a halt in front of the half-giant.
The half-giant narrowed his eyes. He scooped up the coin to inspect it, then, finding it to be the true article, clutched it in his great red hand let out a satisfied chuckle.
“I noticed the crack in the table,” Riley said smugly. “I caught it so it wouldn’t fall in your lap.”
The half-giant grinned widely and slammed his fist on the table. The empty pints rattled. “I like this one! Tell me your name, clever girl!”
“Riley of Beregond,” she extended her hand.
“I am Duane of Nowhere. But everyone calls me Pebble.” The half-giant shook her hand. “You lead this crew?”
“They’re a package deal,” Riley said.
“Very good. Gather around, Package Deal, you have earned the job, and you must know the weight of its secrecy.”
Everyone pulled in stools around the table. Pebble hunched down as much as his massive body would let him. He spoke in a low tone.
“Thieves hit the Rhinestone Palace—a jewelry shop not far from the town square. The owner, Barbas, is a friend. He promised me one thousand gold if I could retrieve his stolen jewels.”
“Do you know who took them?” Francis asked.
“Goblins,” Pebble replied. “They made sure to leave their mark—wanted to let Barbas know who did it. It’s a clan that lives just north of the city. I’d retrieve the jewels myself but there could be dozens of them. My strength gets me far, but even I cannot strongarm dozens of goblins alone.”
“We’re trying to avoid violence where possible,” Francis said.
“Me too,” Pebble said. “Which is why I gave you the test. I need someone clever.” He pointed at Riley. “Goblins love riddles. And they’re willing to put wagers on riddles. I’m sure if we wagered the jewels as a prize, they would accept.”
“What if we can’t solve their riddle?” DJ ventured to ask.
Pebble kicked massive war hammer laying by his foot.
DJ thought back to Broken Lovers Pass and a shiver slid down his spine.
“So you’re trusting us?” Francis said. “A group of strangers?”
“I knew as soon as you came in that I could trust you.” He pointed at Francis. “Strength.” Then to Steve. “Honor.” Then to Riley. “Cunning.” Then to DJ. “I’m… still deciding with you.”
DJ frowned.
“And you’re fine to split the earnings five ways?” Francis asked.
Pebble nodded. “The jewels are more important than the reward. You see…” he leaned in closer and looked around. His voice was barely a whisper. “I made a pendant to propose to my partner. It was stolen along with the other jewels.”
Riley brightened and she gasped. “Cuuuute!”
“Sssshhh!” Pebble waved his hand at her. “It has to be a surprise! Everyone in town knows Brooks! They’ll start acting different around him and he’ll catch on then the surprise will be ruined.” Pebble sighed. “He has the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox.”
Riley looked to the crew for approval. She got it. Then she gripped Pebble’s hand with both of her own. “We’ll do it. Let’s get that pendant back so you can propose to Brooks.”
Pebble smiled at the lot of them. “Do you have a place to stay for the night?” They said they didn’t. “Then you shall stay with us. I will tell Brooks that you’re friends from my adventuring days. Off we go.”
As they left the Squealing Boar, DJ found the grit to ask one itching question. “So, uh, what’s with the, um…?” He gestured all around his neck.
Pebble lifted his necklace of ears. “This?” An evil grin formed across his lips. “Do I really have to explain?”
DJ shook his head and didn’t speak again.
Before long, they arrived at a tall stone building with a sign that read “Brooks’s Bakery.” Interestingly, the building was made almost entirely from stone—unlike the wood-and-stone hybrids all around town. But that didn’t make the quality any less fine. The edges and corners could have been carved from the Goddess herself, with steep diagonal lines that gave an air of strength and majesty.
Francis nudged DJ and pointed. “Dwarven architecture,” he whispered.
They didn’t enter through the front door. Instead, they made their way around the side and climbed an exterior staircase that ascended to an upper floor. As they did, bakery smells wafted to their noses through vents on the building’s walls. DJ’s mouth watered as he smelled fresh bread, pastries, and pies.
Pebble unlocked a door and they all entered. The flat was astonishingly cozy for someone as brutish as Pebble. Couches with velvet upholstery, a garrison of healthy plants, wide rugs with varying patterns made the space pop with life.
And a dwarf was kneading dough on the kitchen counter.
“Oh! You brought guests!” he said. He hopped off of a stool and nearly disappeared. The top of his head—bald, for the most part—bounced up and down as he walked around. When he emerged, DJ noticed the dwarf had a black beard separated into neat braids, and every finger had a ring glinting with colorful jewels.
Pebble beamed at him. “Everyone, this is Brooks. Brooks, these are some friends from past adventures. They’re visiting Laradyl and need a place to stay.”
“Oh, well you’re welcome to stay in the guest room.” Brooks rubbed his hands on his apron. “The bed might only big enough for the green fellow, but there should be space enough your bedrolls if you’re willing to get cozy.”
Get cozy. DJ resisted the urge to glance at Riley.
“Thank you for sharing your home with us,” Riley shook the dwarf’s hands.
Brooks noticed the gleam in Riley’s voice. Brooks narrowed his eyes at Pebble, probing. The half-giant bristled.
“They’re, uh,” the half-giant stammered, “going to help me with Barbas’s jewelry bounty. We’ll venture out to the goblin cave tomorrow morning.”
Brooks freed his hands from Riley. “Oh, I see! Always trying to bring back your adventuring days when all they gave you was a body full of scars and lower back pain!” He pointed all over Pebble. “Why are you so set on recovering those jewels anyway? Let the authorities handle it.”
Taken aback, Pebble searched for an excuse. “Barbas is my friend. Friends help one another.”
Brooks put his hands on his hips and searched Pebble’s face. Pebble gulped. DJ tried not to laugh as he watched the two. Brooks clearly wore the pants in the relationship, which was hilarious considering that Pebble was triple his size.
“Fine then,” Brooks marched around the counter and hopped back on his stool. “But if you come home bleeding, so help me!” He snatched up a rolling pin and pointed it like a sword. “You made me a promise, Duane! You said you were done with this life when you moved in!”
“We’ll be there and back within hours!” Pebble whined. “It’s more like an errand!”
“Regardless!” Brooks said. “You get those jewels and you come back home without a scratch!” He smiled for his guests. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. You’re welcome to relax here or come back then. Our home is your home.”
Since they had just arrived, the party decided to step out. They snickered to each other over the exchange in Pebble’s flat as they went about the city. They visited an armory and Riley fawned over the bows that she could almost afford. At the local monastery, Steve offered more prayers of safety. As usual, Francis and DJ found a bookstore. DJ tried to be inconspicuous as he searched for magic books. Unfortunately, none of the titles were interesting.
When Francis approached the front desk with a poetry book in hand, the elf at the register gave him a sour look. “Doesn’t your kind frown upon such literature?” they said.
“My kind frowns upon most literature,” Francis replied. Then his face got barbaric. “What they do celebrate is destroying the belongings of those who wrong us.” He made a show of glancing all around the bookshelves.
The elf stiffened, took the payment, and wished Francis a lovely evening. DJ snorted a laugh as they walked out.
“What did you get?” DJ asked.
“Some poetry from Gilbert the Fair,” Francis smiled.
“Are his poems good?”
“All of them are.”
“Read me one.”
Francis licked his thumb and flipped through the pages. He landed on one and read it aloud:
Love was once my only care—
a medal to be earned.
Finding love in solitude—
my sweetest lesson learned.
“Hm,” DJ grinned. “I like it.”
“You have good taste, young knight.”
Francis reached out and tousled DJ’s hair. DJ smoothed it out and kept grinning.
Evening fell and the local lamp lighters lit the streets. Dinner with Pebble and Brooks was delightful—warm buttered bread with boiled vegetables seasoned with rosemary and thyme. The couple also shared some of their wine, although Steve politely declined as a sober Steward. When dinner was over, the party excused themselves to the guest room.
Brooks was right—the bed was only big enough for Francis. He graciously invited someone else to take it, but everyone told him he could have it. Through the night, Francis breathed quietly. Steve snored loudly. And after a few hours passed, DJ awoke to gentle nudging. It was Riley kneeling over him.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Is it cold in here to you?”
Blearily, DJ blinked and looked up at her. She was shivering. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I guess… maybe a little bit?”
“I’ve gotten too used to sleeping by campfires,” Riley said. “Come on. Scooch.”
That got DJ’s attention. Riley’s expression didn’t change—she was serious. Turning a little pink, DJ whispered, “Um… sure. Okay.”
Carefully, Riley squeezed into DJ’s bedroll, pressing herself against him. DJ’s heart raced—he hoped she couldn’t feel it. A dozen questions shot through his head. Is she trying to make a move? Does she kind of like me? What do I do with my arm? Are we supposed to cuddle, or—?
“Oh my Goddess, this is so much better.” Riley turned away from him and her shivering settled down. “This is perfect. Thanks Deej. G’nite.”
DJ blinked and put his back against hers. “Good night.” After a few deep breaths, he was back asleep.